


Before You Fade

by Lookafterlou1234



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 11:58:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6752974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lookafterlou1234/pseuds/Lookafterlou1234
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Louis Tomlinson never expected to be still living in his childhood home at twenty-two years of age. So when he finally moves out and buys a place of his own, he's ecstatic. Granted, it's a ramshackle cottage that's on the grounds of the local poshknob castle, but it's his nevertheless. Sure, the family that owns the place is known around the village as being mad, but he just won't call much attention to himself. It might not seem like much, but it is to Louis. For the first time, his future seemed wonderfully bright. </p>
<p>But Louis shouldn't be too quick to seize his new neighbors up. When he meets the owner’s son, it seems like a recipe for romance. He’s handsome, intelligent, worldly: everything Louis believes he himself can never be. But as they both know too well, life rarely goes according to plan. Because Harry Styles never expected to be a quadriplegic at twenty-seven years of age. And his future never seemed darker. </p>
<p>Can a stranger change a life? Can they save it? Can Harry teach Louis to look past his narrow horizons and see a life beyond his town? Can Louis teach Harry that life is still worth living?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before You Fade

**Author's Note:**

> Two years prior.

It was a gray day when he woke up: the kind of day where the clouds hang heavy in the sky, waiting to open. He opened his eyes blearily, rubbing at them tiredly with his knuckles. Shoving the plushy duvet down to his waist, he slipped out of bed, the floorboards cold against his bare feet. On the left side of the bed, his partner for the night sighed in his sleep, tangled hair barely visible on the pillow prompting memories of the last few hours. 

He smiled crookedly, running a hand through his own hair and stretching his shoulders lazily. He’d probably be the only one awake for awhile, which might actually be beneficial to his plans for the day. Going to his closet, he quickly got dressed, pulling on jodhpurs and a thermal shirt. Grabbing riding gloves, he tucked them into his pocket before scribbling his still sleeping boyfriend a note explaining on his whereabouts.

_Hey Grimm, gone riding, be back soon ~H_

 

The grounds of McClain Castle were blissfully quiet. As he strode through the dewy green grass, he shut his eyes, taking a deep breath of the clean air. He’d spent too much time in London these past few months, and the pull to the country had been getting to him. Right now, it felt like he was in an untouched piece of civilization, transported back in time to the world of his ancestors. 

He reached the stables quickly, his feet following the path reflexively by now. He'd been coming the same way since he was a young boy, barely reaching the bellies of the horses. Thankfully he'd surpassed that height by now. Despite the early hour, the stables were alive with activity. Soft nickers and whinnies greeted him as he stepped through the main door, the smell of hay and oats cloying in his nostrils. Stable boys were walking back and forth between the stalls, quietly feeding the animals and refilling their water. He observed them carefully from his place in the shadowy corner, making sure they were treating the majestic creatures with the care and respect they deserved. He needed to make sure they got what they paid for, anyways. 

After a few minutes, he was satisfied and stepped forward towards the stall of his current favourite ride, Everlark. His sister had christened him, unfortunately, but a silly name couldn't take away from that fact that he was a glorious animal. He was black as night, with white socks and a star on his forehead. The owner reached forward and laid a hand on the horse’s velvety nose, smiling happily as it affectionately nipped at his fingers. Funnily enough, it felt like the most natural smile he’d had in ages.   
“Might not want to ride ‘im today, boss.” the nearest stable boy cautioned hesitantly. “He’s a bit nervy in bad weather, and it looks like it'll storm soon.”   
He debated for a few seconds, studying Everlark carefully. He did seem somewhat unsettled, snorting nervously a few seconds and stamping his left hoof against the ground. He regretfully dropped his hand, giving a slow nod. Best not to take him out of the stall today, at least until the weather cleared up. 

But he was still itching to ride. It’d been absolute ages, and he didn't even want to do anything intricate, like high jumps or galloping for miles and miles. Truly, all he wanted was to feel the connection between himself and the animal beneath him, feeling like he could touch the sky as their combined power culminated in a beautiful whole. And if that meant he would just sit and walk on an old pony for a few hours, then so be it. But as he turned to his left and studied the furthermost stall, studying the horse inside, he realized he could do just that. 

 

Lucy was the oldest horse in the barn. A pretty strawberry roan, she was the first horse he’d ever ridden, and had been around for as long as he could remember. She was as steady as a rock and never spooked at anything. He felt confident as he lead Lucy out of her stall and prepared her from riding that today would not be the day that her twenty year streak broke. Putting a saddle pad and a saddle onto Lucy’s back, he then rolled her stirrups down and surreptitiously slipped her a sugar cube. The stable boys weren't too happy whenever he did that, but he didn’t really care. In his heart of hearts, Lucy was still his favourite ride, flashy show horse or not. 

Sliding his booted foot into the stirrup, he swung himself onto Lucy’s back. She started a bit at the sudden weight and he patted her neck apologetically.   
“Bit heavier than you remember, eh girl?” he chuckled as he started them off at a slow walk out of the stables. “Don't worry, we won't be going any faster than this today.” 

 

Outside, the rain had gotten heavier, making his curly hair stick to his forehead. Lucy went down the first path she knew, snuffling at the grass beneath her hooves. He held the reins in a loose grip, giving Lucy her head. She never went any faster than a slow trot, seeing content to just graze with a rider on her back. He shoved his heels low, keeping the stirrups down to stay centered, and sat back in his seat. He tipped his head backwards and shut his eyes happily, feeling the rain land on his cheeks and eyelashes. Something he actually wanted to do. _Finally_. 

His sudden peace was broken as the heavens opened overhead. Jumping in his seat, he looked upward in shock, not expecting the storm to break that quickly. He steered Lucy back around, not waiting to keep the old girl out in terrible weather. Nudging her sides with his heels gently, he edged Lucy into an easy canter, hoping to get her back home sooner. They approached a fallen log and Lucy jumped over it, causing him to grin. She still had it. They kept going at the same pace, him keeping a wary eye on the mud puddles on the dirt path. Looking back up, he could see the stables a few hundred feet away, the dim lights from inside welcoming them back. He was surprised at how relieved he felt. He was just planning on giving Lucy a nice warm bucket of oats when they got back when the thunder boomed overhead. As if on cue, lightning flashed. 

There were a few brief seconds where time froze. Feeling as if he was out of his own body, he saw the scene happen. Lucy shied away at the bright light, rearing up on her hind legs. He fumbled to keep ahold of the slick reins, but even the most experienced rider can't always keep their seat. There was a whinnie that sounded like a scream. Or perhaps that was just his own desperate cry: some unconscious part of him knowing what would happen. Knowing there’d be no recovery. 

And then, thankfully, blissfully, nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed the prologue! More coming soon hopefully :) <3


End file.
